Black Ice
by dhalpin3
Summary: Takes place before Uncanny X-Men 32 and 33. Illyana internal dialog. Depression.


**Black Ice**

Author's note: Takes place before Uncanny X-Men 32 and 33. Illyana internal dialog. Dealing (badly) with depression.

It revolves around them. Kitty and my brother.

He started it, like a snowflake shifting atop a mountain. The future Peter. A Peter who loved the me. The I that I have become. Not the I that I was no matter how I wish I could be her again. Acceptance. Love. Being cherished. Something awoke in me that I thought forever dead and it basked in the love. Drank it down as if it watered a parched land.

Then he died.

I was alone again.

Unloved, but now knowing what that truly truly was.

Then Kitty returned to my life. Uncertain of me, scared, yet willing to dwell in my presence for the sake of her students. I gave her what she wanted. A refuge and the chance to put an end to her dark designs upon Scott. She overcame her dark temptations and let him live, as I believed she would. She is the better person, always has been.

But then as we stood together, as I dwelt upon the loss of my future brother and the harms I'd done to my brother; I impulsively acted. I found myself hugging Kitty; well I found myself trying to hug Kitty. I had startled her and she phased so I just passed right through her and ended up tumbling head of heels down the icy slope. But then she apologized and hugged me.

People rarely touch me or get close. I understand. I am hurt and pain. I am not nice. I don't do nice.

The hug was... nice. Comforting. I haven't been comforted in I don't know how long.

I had avoided Kitty. She scares me, which I know she would find funny if I dared to tell her as everybody is scared of me, even her. She represents everything that has been torn from me.

She had saved me before. Back when I first escaped Limbo. She helped me remember what it was to be human. A child. A girl.

She wasn't there to help pick of the pieces after the second go around. Just me and Belasco. I was... broken. Distorted. Driven mad in so many ways. Broken things don't work right. I did... things I now understand were wrong.

Even things that I did out of love. Things I did and allowed to happen to Peter. Things that so affected Kitty.

Things that now dominate my thoughts. I know that my rekindled interactions with Kitty are a lie. She doesn't yet know all that I've done. What I am. If she knew then she would reject me just like Peter did. Just like I deserve.

My dreams have changed yet again. Gone are the accusations, the blood, the ruination of all. Now they have become darker in a way I've never felt before.

I dream of:

Balancing upon a fulcrum and fearing to move. If I but shift so will my world.

Standing on the shores of a dark cold river. The far shore, if there is one, is lost in the mists. Small ice sheets float past in the fast current. Wolves are howling behind me. I lift one foot but is it to try to cross or run back?

Being surrounded by blistering desert. Sitting in the shade of a solitary date tree. Stay and face a lingering death, forever moving about for a smidgen of shade. But cross the desert? What way? How far? With no water? I'm frozen with indecision.

Swimming in an endless ocean. So tired. Cease to struggle but for a moment and I will slip between the waves forever. I tread water while I pant in exhaustion. Strong currents nip at my feet trying to drag me under.

Sitting on a stone floor within a doorless room. A jug with some unknown liquid rests besides me. Thirst burns in my throat. Dare I drink? It may contain the key to life. It may be nothing but distilled death. I fear it is both. If I but sip I will be nourished, yet I will die of it I somehow know. If I refrain I may linger, but to what end?

Standing in shadow while all around me is light. I want... I want to feel the light, escape where I am, what I am. But I know I'll burn. Burn away to nothing if I but take one more step.

Such are my dreams.

I'm filled with a longing that knows no relief. I must make a choice. But I know what the results must inevitably be. Being alone again.

I'd rather die instead.

The future Jean toyed with me. Told me that I end myself. I understand why that future I must have acted. I'm being gnawed upon in a way I cannot fight.

I know what I must do. I must talk with Kitty and Peter together. I must tell the truth of my actions to them both.

But I know I will die if I do this.

I fear I will die if I do not.

I can see no path out of my darkness. There can be no forgiveness for one such as I.

Author comment: The hardest things we do are not the actual doing. The hardest things we ever do are deciding to do what we consider the hardest things.

Illyana has come so far since her badly written death and horrific embodiment. Nice to see linear character development rather then the usual progress/regress cycle that most characters are trapped in due too the business of comics.

I look forward to Uncanny 600 as Illyana takes the next step in her development. Looks like she's going to confront her sins as it were. Can she ask for forgiveness? Can she be forgiven?

For us to change the old us must die.

Corinthians 1:13: If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast but do not have love, I gain nothing.


End file.
